


Keep it close

by bellacatbee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-19
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 19:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellacatbee/pseuds/bellacatbee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it started Dean just wanted to help the angel learn to relax. Pure PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep it close

It started as a way to resolve tension. Dean was always tense – he had Sam, he had angels breathing down his neck, he had an apocalypse to stop and Castiel just stood there ramrod straight, his shoulders bunched up and so tense he looked like he might just crumble if someone added another weight to his shoulders. So Dean taught him how to relax.

It didn’t mean anything at first. Showing the angel how to touch himself, watching him but not touching because that was gay and Dean didn’t do things like that. He’d got Castiel to lie back on the cheap motel bed, open his pants because he wouldn’t take anything else off, and draw out his cock. Dean had compared his own and Castiel’s and thought of his own favourably. Castiel’s was longer but Dean’s was big. He’d never had any complaints about it. “Okay, you want to do it like this.” He said, wrapping his hand around his own cock and stroking. Castiel had watched him avidly and copied his motions exactly. Dean had kept his eyes half closed through most of it, picturing the most recent centrefold from Busty Asian Beauties and he doesn’t know what Castiel thought about but it took the angel only a few tugs before he’d come, lying spent and dazed with his limp cock hanging there, come dripping from the tip onto his trousers. Dean was a pro at this so it takes him a bit longer. His hips snap up, fucking the air and he grins at Castiel after he’s come. “Feel a bit more relaxed?” He asks the angel and Castiel nods mutely.

It’s meant to be a one-time thing but he finds himself jerking off with Castiel more often than not. Castiel will just appear with him when Dean wants to be alone and they’ll end up doing it together. Angels don’t get boundaries and Dean wonders if Castiel ever touches himself when he’s alone or if he only feels able to do it near Dean. If he’s given the angel some kind of sex complex then Sam will never forgive him. Sam’s never going to know about it, of course, but if he did then he’d never forgive him. Eventually though Dean finds he’s not even thinking about pretty girls he picked up in bars or centrefolds any more, he’s watching Castiel jerk himself off, watching the angel’s lashes fluttering as he closes his eyes, lost in pleasure, watching the silent ‘o’ of his mouth as he touches himself and Dean thinks lazily how good it would feel to fuck that mouth.

They graduate from the motel room to other places and then Dean can’t help touching him. A truck stop bathroom is the first place he jerks Castiel off in and Castiel moans low and unearthly, the lights flickering all around them and Dean doesn’t know if that’s Castiel or the wiring being bad. Castiel always touches himself exactly the same way, following the pattern he did that first time Dean showed him what to do although it’s taking him longer and longer to come each time he does it, building his stamina as he does. Dean just wanted to show him there was more. Castiel’s cock feels different from his own, smooth in his hand and Dean pumps him and Castiel grips at his shoulders. He returns the favour, touching Dean gently, inexpertly and it takes Dean a lot longer than he would have wanted to get off. When they leave the bathroom the attendant watches them and Dean knows that he must guess what they’d been doing in there. It makes him feel dirty and yet alive.

The next truck stop they reach he pulls over and does it again.

**

The first time Castiel sucks him off is up against a wall in a back alley. Dean has had a few beers and Castiel’s hand just isn’t doing it for him tonight. “You should try…on your knees.” He says, waving his hand in front of him and he’s surprised when Castiel complies, sinking to his knees and looking up at him expectantly. Dean realises in a moment that knocks him stone cold sober that he really is Castiel’s first everything. Castiel doesn’t know anything. Dean can teach him whatever he wants; he can make Castiel perfect at this. He touches Castiel’s jaw, guiding him forward and grips the back of his head as he lazily fucks the angel’s mouth.

Cas has no gag reflex.

**

The first time he sucks off Castiel they’re lying together on a motel bed and Castiel is toying with himself, more interested in what the two people on the TV are doing. Dean’s seen this episode before and he got himself off a few minutes ago. He watches Castiel, looking at the dark pink head of his cock as it slides into view as Castiel fists himself and in a moment of curiosity he bends down to lick it and see what it tastes like. Castiel goes stiff and straight as a board and Dean licks him again. It tastes like salt and soap and something indefinable that is probably Castiel. Dean’s getting so into exploring him that he doesn’t hear Castiel’s breath quickening and when the angel comes Dean gets a mouthful of it.

“Fuck!” He curses, spitting onto the ground and grabs a tissue to wipe his face. “Fuck! You got to tell a guy when you’re going to do that!” He spits into the tissue and then gets up, adjusting himself, and grabs a beer to wash the taste of spunk out of his mouth. Castiel just watches him.

**

“I’m going to come, Dean.” Castiel says, his voice serious and purposeful and Dean fights down the urge to laugh. He lets Castiel’s cock fall from between his lips and sits up, scooting closer so he can press against Castiel as he works the angel over the edge with his hand. He doesn’t know why he does it but he leans in then, capturing Castiel’s mouth in a kiss. It’s short, abrupt really and he catches Castiel’s cry as he comes, swallowing it down and then pulls away. Castiel leans after him as if he expects to be kissed again but Dean just tells him to clean both of them up.

**

When Castiel kisses him it isn’t sexual. They aren’t in a lull between hunts or bored tracking something. They aren’t even wrapped up in energy from a kill. Dean is hurt, the ghoul they’re after having tried to take a chunk out of his shoulder and Sam is going to take that things fucking head off. Castiel presses into him, crowding Dean against the Impala and stares at him. Dean thinks he’s going to get another lecture about being careful, about remembering he’s not invincible and he’s already ready with a comeback for that one because he remembers dying pretty well but all Castiel does is kiss him. It’s tender, concerned and Dean pushes him away harshly.

“What the fuck man?” He hisses and Castiel opens his mouth to say something but the Dean’s phone rings and its Sam. He’s killed the ghoul.

**

Dean doesn’t remember how it got to this point. If he started it this time or if it was Castiel. All he knows is that Castiel is above him, sliding down gracefully onto Dean’s cock, bringing it inside him as if he’d been doing this for years and he didn’t just have his first time a little over an hour ago. Dean’s been working through positions with him. Cas likes it better face to face so that he can watch him. Dean isn’t going to admit he likes it that way too. Getting Castiel to get undressed took an effort but it was worth it. Underneath he’s all tight, toned muscle and Dean loves how there’s hardly anything to him physically but he can feel all the power in Castiel coiled like a tightly wound spring.

 

He had Castiel on his hands and knees first because it would be easier for him and that way he didn’t have to look at the man’s body beneath his, he could just close his eyes and pretend it wasn’t Castiel he was fucking, that he was getting hard for. Of course Castiel doesn’t feel like anything other than a man and he keeps moaning in that rough, low voice of his which is distracting as hell for Dean. Eventually he flips them over and pounds into Cas, looking straight down at him and Castiel looks straight back up with those wide, blue unfathomable eyes. Dean knows he was the one who reached in for that kiss first.

Somewhere along the line this stopped being about relaxing and started being about need. He needs Castiel and evidently the angel needs him. Maybe they were always destined to end up this way and if Dean hadn’t wanted it then he wouldn’t have been so gung-ho about teaching Cas about sex in the first place. Castiel was fine not knowing. It wasn’t bothering him that there’d never been the occasion but Dean kept making the occasion.

He grips Castiel’s hips hard, holding him still so Dean can press up into him and Castiel presses a hand to his chest, holding Dean down while he moves his hips, the first few rolls lazy and gloriously slow – like the sweetest kind of torture and Dean knows an awful lot about torture – and then he finds a rhythm that’s more like them, a harsh, unrelenting rhythm until he’s bouncing up and down and the bed is creaking under them, moving with every unrelenting thrust and Dean can’t move, he can just lay there and watch while Castiel fucks himself on Dean’s cock – looking so debauched and unbelievably wicked. This is all about what Castiel wants. Dean’s taught him all the tricks, how to touch himself, how to get what he wants and in the end this is what Castiel wants. He wants Dean.

Castiel tenses around him, eyes rolling back in his head and he makes a noise that’s not quite human as he comes, shudders running through him and right into the core of Dean and then he’s coming too. Finally he can move again and he reaches up for Castiel, wrapping his arms around him and pulling the other against him. He kisses him greedily, hungry for his mouth and Castiel sighs contentedly.

They don’t need words and Dean doesn’t think he’d know how to begin to explain to Castiel how he feels about the angel, how Castiel is his exception to the rules. He figures maybe Castiel knows and Dean’s always been better at showing rather than telling. He lies there; pulling Castiel in close to his side and Castiel lays his head on his shoulder and idly strokes his fingers over the hand-print he gave Dean. There are finger shaped marks on his thighs now, perfect bruises in the shape of Dean’s hands and Dean likes the way they match. It won’t last forever. His marks on Castiel will fade, they will probably be gone by the next time he looks but for a moment there was the evidence on skin that Castiel is his.

It started as a way to resolve tension and now Dean doesn’t know what it is. But he likes it. So he keeps it and he keeps Castiel close.


End file.
